


The mind melt

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Blood, CPR, Cuddles, Cute, Father-Son Relationship, Fever, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Nightmares, Protective Tony Stark, Sad, Whump, Worried Tony Stark, baths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Peter was burning up, his temperature far higher than any normal person could survive and so, May does the only thing she can. She calls Tony.





	The mind melt

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for three prompts so I hope they work okay together, also I know this took a long time to write and I'm sorry I had a lapse in writing mojo so thank you immensely to my wonderful friends that helped me keep writing this. Hannah, Allison and Emrys you are amazing and I love you I couldn't have written this without your help.

“Peter, come on honey, you have school. Get up already!” May had knocked on her nephew's door twice and he still hadn’t responded. No usual grumbling, no pleas to let him sleep, nothing. 

“Peter! Get your ass out of bed!” She was beginning to get worried. Peter wasn’t exactly a morning person, what teenager was? But he should have been up by now, eating his breakfast while half asleep and grumbling about being woken.

He hadn’t gone on patrol last night, having agreed to give May one night a week where he hung out with her instead, so he shouldn't have even been that tired. 

“Peter, I’m coming in!” Venturing into a teenagers bedroom was always a dangerous endeavour but she’d waited long enough and she pushed his door open to see…

The poor kid was still dead asleep, curled up tight under his covers with his hair sticking up in erratic, fluffy tufts. He was snoring softly, back turned towards her and May couldn’t help but smile. 

The kid overworked himself with the juggle of school and patrols, it was only a matter of time before he crashed. 

She almost wanted to just leave him and let him have a day off but he would hate to miss school. She made her way over and leaned over him, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Her hand stopped, pressing against Peters skin and May froze at the heat radiating from him, panic tearing through her. 

Peter hadn’t gotten sick in so long, she didn’t think he could with his new powers. She tugged his blankets down, sighing at Peters pale face and flushed cheeks. His skin was dry and hot as a furnace and she quickly rolled him onto his back. “Peter? Honey, wake up.”

He moaned in pain as she moved him, chest rising and falling in laboured pants as his eyes scrunched shut. May quickly pulled his blankets off him, leaving only his sheet, before going to grab a cold cloth from the bathroom. 

He’d be fine, she’d taken care of a sick Peter plenty of times and sure his fever seemed to be way up there but it’s not like she could take him to a doctor. Peter whimpered and turned his head away when she pressed the cloth to his forehead, only calming when May brushed his hair back and pressed her palm to his cheek. 

His eyelids fluttered as May pressed the cool cloth to his neck, and he turned his head towards her. “It’s okay, Peter. I’m here.”

 

He opened his eyes, glassy and tired, but May didn’t start to panic until he tried to speak. He must have really felt awful, his voice small and tired as he mumbled. 

“Mommy? Where’s Dad?” 

………………

Tony rolled over, grumbling as his phone buzzed on his side table. His eyes burned as his clock displayed the horrid glowing numbers telling him he'd only gone to bed a few hours ago. 

Bruce had told him to ditch the project he was working on and sleep but nope, he’d stayed up and now he was paying the price. His arm was heavy with exhaustion as he reached for his phone, begrudgingly picking up and pressing the phone to his ear, eyes closing again. 

“Yes.”

“Tony, you have to help me. I don’t know what's wrong with him. He was fine last night but now he’s burning up and I don’t even think he knows where he is and-”

Tony’s eyes snapped open at the panic in May’s voice and he sprung up in bed, throwing his blankets off. “Who? Peter?”

“Yes! He’s way too hot, Tony and you know I can’t take him to a doctor.”

The mechanic got out of bed, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he hurriedly pulled on some clothes. “No, no it’s fine, I understand. I’ll be there in ten and we’ll have Bruce take a look at him. It’ll be okay.”

May sighed, her racing breaths slowing at Tony’s calm tone. He knew what he was doing, it would be fine. “Thank you.”

Tony hung up and pulled his hoodie on, slipping his phone into the pocket. Pepper rolled over, arm stretching out to where Tony had been sleeping. She groaned, barely awake. “You’re leaving?”

Tony pulled his shoes on, sparing a hand to brush Peppers hair behind her ear. “Peter’s sick, I need to go help. May’s really freaking out. You know how she is.”

Tony turned back to his shoes as Pepper smiled, hand rubbing over his shoulders. “You are really stuck on that kid aren’t you?” 

Tony laughed, turning to press a kiss to her smile. “You’ve met him. He gets those nerdy little hands into your heart and just doesn't let go. I have to take care of this but I’ll be back as soon as he’s okay.”

Tony left, calling Bruce on his way to the car and hoping that May really was freaking out for nothing. 

……………………

“Thank you for coming so quickly and I know I tend to panic about everything but this time it’s serious.” May wrung her hands as she ushered Tony in, worry colouring her tone. 

Tony shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Really. I put a 24/7 nanny cam in his suit and gave him an actual nanny in Karen so if anyone is the helicopter parent here it’s me. Where is he?”

“In his room. He wouldn’t wake up this morning so I went to check on him and I just found him like that.” 

‘Like that’ was tangled in sheets, panting as he tried to pull his blankets back over his trembling form. Tony ran over, pulling Peter’s hands away from the covers. “No, no, no buddy, you don’t need that.”

Peters' eyes opened enough for him to see the blurry face above him. “Dad? You came back?”

Tony sighed, frowning as Peter’s fever-glazed eyes looked up at him, full of hope. “No, buddy. It’s not your dad, I’m sorry. It’s just me, it’s Tony.”

 

Peter blinked, one of his hands reaching out and pressing to Tony’s chest, fingers moving restlessly against the fabric of his mentor's shirt as if he wanted to grab onto it but couldn't remember how. 

“Tony.” 

The Avenger nodded and pressed his palm to Peter’s forehead, feeling the heat coming from the teenager. “That’s right, buddy. I’m gonna get you in the car okay? We’ll go see Bruce and he can make you feel better.”

Tony pulled Peter’s sheets away and gently lifted the kid's arm around his neck. “Hold onto me, Pete.” 

He slipped his hands underneath the kid, pulling him to his chest and lifting him in his arms. 

May hovered behind him, hands outstretched should either of them need her but she had no reason to worry, Tony didn’t dare jostle the kid. He had only held a newborn once, at some stupid thing that Pepper had made him go to, and carrying Peter was a similar experience. The teenager was floppy, deadweight in his arms and Peppers voice suddenly came back to him, urgent and pestering. 

“Support the babies head, they can’t hold it up by themselves.” 

Peter’s head flopped forward as Tony adjusted him, burning forehead pressing to his mentor's neck as he moaned in pain, his whole body aching. He wasn’t strong enough to much more than curl his fingers into the fabric of the Avengers shirt.

Tony held him close and headed towards the door, voice soft as he spoke into Peter’s hair. “I got you, buddy. You’re okay.”

The only problem was that Peter was much bigger than the newborn baby had been and it took some manoeuvring to make sure they got through the doorway, Tony shuffling through sideways to make sure Peters' feet didn’t hit the frame.

May ran ahead, grabbing her bag, and opened the door for Tony. Peter shivered hard at the cooler air, whimpering as he tried to pull his face closer to Tony’s neck and May quickly grabbed a blanket to tuck around him. 

Peter didn’t seem to be aware of anything, eyes roaming languidly above him as the fever coursed through his veins. How bad was the fever, that he was so far gone? 

Tony spared a glance down as he and May hurried out of the building to where his car was waiting on the street. “Pete? You with me, bud?”

The kid didn’t even look at him, eyes barely open as he shivered. Every tremble made his body ache further and he whimpered, not awake enough to understand why he was hurting. 

Happy was waiting for them by the car, grumpy expression melting into one of concern as Tony rushed out with Peter dangling listlessly from his arms. “He okay?”

Tony hurried towards him, being as gentle as he could with the precious cargo in his arms, May running behind him. “He’s burning up. We need to get to Bruce, now.”

Happy opened the door for him, gently taking Peter in his arms so that Tony could slip into the back seat before passing the kid back, laying him out across Tony’s lap. 

May slipped into the front seat and they sped off. 

Bruce was waiting for them when they arrived, having heard the basics of the situation from Tony's call that morning. His eyes were glued to his patient as soon as Tony walked in, ushering him into the med bay. 

“What happened?”

May nervously squeezed her fingers in front of her, trying to hold back from fretting over her nephew as Tony gently set him down on the bed. 

“He was perfectly fine yesterday and then this morning he was like this.”

Tony lowered the kid onto the bed, holding the back of his head carefully as he laid him down. Peters' eyes weren’t even open anymore and Tony hoped he was just sleeping, heart, hammering at the thought that he could have passed out, or that he could have gotten worse on the ride over and what if it was serious and-

Bruce’s calm voice cut through the scream of anxiety in his head. “It’s probably a virus. They can come on pretty quick but they usually only last a couple of days. I’ll take a look at him and we’ll get him cooled down. It’ll be okay, try not to panic.”

Tony stepped away from the bed, arms feeling empty without Peter, and stood beside May as Bruce leant over him. 

He tugged the collar of Peters shirt down and placed small round stickers to his pale chest and another on the inside of his wrist before turning to a screen and turning it on. 

Tony watched as it flickered to life, vitals appearing so that Bruce could hum at them as he studied the lines and numbers. “His temperature is quite high, even for him and his heart rate is up. Not exactly a surprise but still a little concerning. I’ll take some blood, try and figure out if this is viral or something else. Has he shown any other symptoms? Complained at all? Even about anything small?”

May watched closely as Bruce got out his penlight, sweeping it across Peter’s face as he gently lifted each of his eyelids. “Not really. He had a headache yesterday but it was gone by lunch.”

Bruce frowned, voice raising a little to try and get through to the teenager. “Peter, can you hear me?”   
The teenager didn’t move, not responding at all, his eyes rolling back into his head as Bruce lifted his lids. That wasn’t a good sign. And in fact, Peter could hear him, sort of, he just wasn’t sure how to answer. 

Peters insides were burning, blood boiling inside his veins while his skin froze and he didn’t know what was happening. He shivered, bones aching with every movement. 

“-e’s not even moving. What’s wrong with him?”

Peter knew that was Tony, recognising the worried lilt to his tone but unable to open his eyes to see him. Where was he? 

Another voice came, as familiar as the first but closer to his ear. “He’s not getting enough oxygen to his brain. We need to cool him down and soon or he could sustain permanent damage. Tony, help me get this shirt off him.”

Something pressed against his face, over his mouth and nose and Peter could feel the cool puffs of air on his lips, mouth opening on instinct to drag in that precious oxygen. But then the pain came again, fingers pressing to his chest and tugging up his shirt, exposing his skin to the air. 

The cold bit at him, raising goosebumps across his skin as each touch ached like a bruise. He wanted to move away but his body was too heavy and even turning his head seemed like too much effort. He was so tired and so sore, he just wanted to sleep. 

His limp arms were pushed and pulled, gently lifted in cool hands until his sleep shirt was being lifted off his head. He wanted it back, wanted those fingers to stop pressing against his skin but no words formed in his mouth, just whimpers and gasps, shapeless sounds of pain. 

His arm was turned over and something pressed to the thin skin on the inside of his elbow, stinging and aching terribly as something was taped down. Had he been more aware he would have recognised it as an IV but in his fevered state, most of his thoughts were nothing more than instinct, reacting to his blurry, warped environment. 

Tony clenched his teeth as he watched Peters bare, pale chest strain for breath. The kid's eye would only flicker open for a moment at a time, confused and scared. 

Bruce continued placing cooling mats over him, tucking one around Peters' chest and placing another under his neck. Peter cried out at the cool touch, hot tears running down his flushed cheeks and Tony couldn’t help but bring his hand up to brush them away. 

Peter lent into his touch, wide palm cupping the teenager's cheek as his thumb swept over his burning skin. “It’s okay, kid. Bruce is taking care of it. You’ll feel better soon.”

Peters' eyes opened, glassy gaze finding Tony’s face. His mouth parted, lips dry and trembling. 

“M-Mr Stark. Something’s wrong.”

Tony nodded, brushing the boy's hair back. “I know, but it’s okay. Bruce is fixing it.”

Peter rolled his head across the pillow in a very tired version of a headshake. His hands came up to his chest, trying to push the cooling mats away. “I don’t want it.”

Bruce grabbed Peters hands, pulling them away and Tony quickly joined in to help when Peter began resisting. “No, Pete. Leave those alone, they’re going to help cool you down. Stop, lay still.”

The baby avenger whimpered, breaking Tony’s heart. “It hurts. Take it off, please.”

“I can’t, you need it. You’re sick, Peter.”

Peter blinked, eyelids heavy, and he took so long to drag them back open that Tony thought he may have fallen asleep. 

“Can you…” His shaky fingers lifted from the mattress, inching them forward to tug at Tony's shirt.   
He didn’t know how to ask but thankfully Tony knew what he wanted. 

He took Peters hand and squeezed his fingers gently, pressing his cool palm to Peters burning one. The teenager immediately relaxed, eyelids dipping closed as he mumbled through a relieved sigh. 

“Don’t tell May. She’ll be worried. I don’t want her to be worried.”

Tony turned to where May was watching, hand to her mouth as she shook her head at her ridiculous nephew. Tony let out a small laugh. “Okay, buddy. I won’t tell her. You just rest now.”

Peter liked that idea. Sleep sounded really nice and he didn’t take long to slip into a deep sleep. 

May watched him fall asleep, heart warming at the gentle way Tony was holding Peters' hand and she smiled, knowing he was in good hands.

“I’m sorry to do this but I have work and my boss isn't going to let me take today off. I hate to leave him but-”

Bruce gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it, he’ll mostly just sleep anyway. We’ve got him.”

She pressed a kiss to Peter's, too-warm forehead before she left him in the capable hands of the Avengers.

…………………

You know what’s not a good idea? Getting out of bed when you have a brain-melting fever. But you know what happens when your brain melts? You can’t use it so well. All the information kept in that squishy pink organ gets mixed up and nothing really makes sense anymore. 

So, when Peter heard screaming coming from down the street, it was pure instinct that drove him forward. His eyes snapped open and he sat up in his bed, cooling mats falling into his lap that quickly got pushed away by clumsy hands. 

He didn’t think about maybe telling Tony, who was sitting next to his bed and getting him to take care of it. No, instead he yanked all his wires and monitors off and slipped from the bed. 

His toes curled at the touch of the cold floor before he attempted to take his whole weight on his legs and they buckled. Huh, that was weird. 

He fell to the floor in a heap, limbs smacking the hard floor painfully before he caught himself on his hands and knees. 

Peter looked down at himself, seeing a bare chest and sleep pants and frowned. Superheros needed clothes. Well, Hulk didn’t wear a shirt but that’s because he was too big. Peter needed a shirt. 

He mumbled to himself as he got to his wobbly feet. Silly legs being all wobbly. “Spider-man needs his suit so he can save the people. Gotta get the suit.”

In his fevered, idiot state it was a miracle he didn’t wake up Tony, although the mechanic had been by his side all day and was understandably tired. Peter stumbled right past him as he made his way out of the med bay and into the hallway, heading for his room. 

Tony had been very nice and given Peter a room at the compound that he could stay in on weekends when he came to train. It was a super cool room and because it had been Mays weekend he knew that his suit had just been repaired and upgraded and was waiting for him there. 

The scream came again, off in the distance where no one but Peter could hear it, and the teenager knew he had to hurry. He leant against the wall, trying to keep upright as he moved his noodle legs faster. 

“Friday, open my door, please.” He was too tired to do it himself and hoped the AI would do it for him but all he got was an unhappy chime and it’s admonishing voice coming from above him. 

“Peter, you are supposed to be in the med bay. Bruce has not released you yet. I’m calling for help, now.”

Peter waved a distressed arm, hand flopping on his wrist. “You’re TELLing oN mE?! Tattletale! I’ll do it myself.”

An alarm began to blare from behind him coming from the med bay but Peter ignored it and grabbed his bedroom door. 

He had meant to only pull it open but it seemed that Friday had locked it. He really didn’t mean to but he often forgot how strong he was and he may have accidentally pulled his door right off the hinges. 

He held the door in one hand, staring at it in shock. “Whoops.” He threw it behind him nonchalantly and made his way to his suit where it lay on his bed. Jackpot. 

He could hear Tony and Bruce call for him, coming his way down the hallway and his heart raced, hands moving faster to pull on his suit. He got one leg in and hopped towards his window, shoving it open as he got his other leg in and pulled it up. 

“Peter! Come back here!”

The little troublemaker grabbed his mask as he tapped his chest, making his suit tighten to his body before he slipped out the window and swung away. 

Thankfully, the screams weren’t coming from too far away and Peter got there within a few minutes, perching on a rooftop above as he pulled on his mask. But it seemed that Karen wasn’t happy for Peter to be out either and instead of his usual sweet greeting from her he got a telling off. 

“Peter, I have been informed that you are not allowed to be using the suit. You need to go back.”

The teenager shook his head and watched the street below where the screams had been coming from. “No, I have to save the girl. She’s scared.”

There was a group of men cornering a woman in an alley below and Peter couldn't just leave her. 

“You have a fever and you need rest. I’m sending your location to Tony now.”

Peter grumbled, hopping down from his perch to the street below. “Don’t be a snitch Karen. I thought we were friends.”

There were three guys, all of them turning when Peter landed in a crouch behind them. 

Karen didn’t sound happy. “It is not safe for you to fight in your current condition. Tony will be here soon.” 

Peter stood, waving a hand in front of him as he grumbled back. “Well, tell him I don’t need him. I can handle three guys. They’re small.”

The, apparently small, guys in the alley frowned, confused. One of them spoke, annoyed and gruff. “Tell who, what?”

Peter shook his head at him, flippant of the danger right in front of him. “No, I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to my friend. Or, not friend now that she's a snitch.”

The guy didn’t seem to like being ignored and he surged forward, fist raised. “You’re crazy. Get out of here.”

The girl was cowering against the wall behind the three men and she sniffled, the sound bringing Peters attention back to his goal. 

The guy coming towards him wasn’t too big and Peter flung a web at him, sticking him to the alley wall. Or at least, he tried to. His aim may have been a little off due to the whole, blurry vision and fever shakes thing. 

He managed to fire the web but it only hit the bag guys arm. He got stuck, but it wouldn’t hold for long, especially when he had a knife in his back pocket. But Peter didn’t know that. His fleeting attention was already taken by the other two guys who came towards him in unison. 

Peter smacked one of their hands away but received a jab in the ribs from the other. It was hard enough to force the air from his lungs and slow him down a bit more, which the bad guys took to their advantage. 

Peter had slowed for just a second, but it was enough for the second guy to swing a fist towards the young heroes face. Peters' head snapped backwards and he stumbled back, another fist finding his ribs once more. 

The girl took the opportunity to run as Peter tripped and fell to the cold concrete, the two men looming over him before the first guy cut himself from the webs and joined in. 

Feet came down on Peter, hard and unrelenting, smashing into his ribs and cracking his head against the ground, hitting his face and splitting his lip. It hurt much worse than it usually would, Peters body already aching from the fever, and he groaned on the ground, breath pushed from his lungs with each kick. 

Maybe he should have listened and stayed back. The thought only occurred briefly before a boot came towards his face, cracking against his skull and snapping the lights off in his brain. 

……… 

Tony followed Karen’s coordinates to Peter, trying to get to him before he did something stupid. Too late. 

He could hear yelling over the top of the panting and scuffling coming from a dark alley and he hurried on, flying through the night to get to his idiot child. 

What he found, however, was a horrible sight. Spider-man on the ground hands weakly trying to keep the feet away from him as they rained down. And then one final kick, sending Peters skull smashing against the concrete. His hands flopped and body slumped, out cold.

Rage flared up in Tony in a second, flushing his face hot and sensing his heart racing.   
“Hey! Get off him!” 

The whine of his blasters cut through the night air, startling the men and sending them stumbling back from the kid on the ground. But Tony had no intention of letting them get off that easy. He wanted to shoot them or pummel them into the ground with his metal-clad fists but Peter needed his attention and so he let them turn tail and run. 

“Friday, send word to the police, give them shots of the attackers faces and let them take care of them.”

“Right away. Boss.”

Tony hurried over to the teenager on the ground, hands hovering over his limp form as he spoke again to his AI. “Call Bruce too, tell him I have Peter and that we need help.”

Peter wasn’t moving, his arms limp and heavy on the concrete and Tony was worried. What could a beating like that do to someone so sick? He placed a hand on the kid's chest, finding comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, however, strained. 

“Friday, what are his vitals at? What's the damage?”

Numbers and scans flickered to life in his vision, information scrolling past his eyes with none of it being particularly good.

His heart rate was up, his fever higher and a definite concussion. “Dammit, Pete.”

“His nose appears to be broken but there should be no permanent damage, to his face or his head.”

Friday sent it all to Bruce before declaring that he was close by. “Dr Banner will be arriving in five minutes.”

Tony looked around furtively, making sure no one was around to see before he carefully slipped Peters mask off, revealing his beaten face. 

The skin over the bridge of his nose was split and bleeding as was his poor lip where the skin had given way under the force of a very angry boot. Tony slipped his hand carefully under Peters' head, one palm cupping his grazed cheek as he sighed at the sight of the beaten teen. 

He wished he had hurt those damn thugs instead of letting the cops handle it. They deserved a little pain for hurting his kid. 

Guilt wormed its way into his chest at the knowledge that Peter had escaped on his watch. He’d gotten hurt while already recovering from a fever. He should have watched over him better, should have stayed awake. 

Peters' eyes lay softly closed as if he were sleeping, his mouth parted slightly so the blood from his lip and nose could drip onto his tongue and paint his teeth red. It was hard to look at but Tony grit his teeth and brushed Peters hair back at his temples, offering what little comfort he could. 

His voice was soft in the dark alley, dipped low with guilt. “You’ll be okay, Pete. I’m here now. I got you.”

Tony wasn’t expecting a response and his heart thumped hard in his chest when Peter moved.   
His eyelids flickered, fingers twitching on the pavement, curling towards his palm before flicking out again. Tony leaned forward, watching Peters face expectantly. 

“Peter? Can you hear me? Open your eyes.”

But the young Avenger wasn’t waking up. His fever was rising and it was becoming too much for his body to handle. 

His eyes opened for a second, a single word falling from his clumsy mouth. “Tony?”

Tony smiled for half a second before it fell into open-mouthed shock as Peter's eyes rolled back into his head and he began to shake. His whole body locked up, teeth clenching shut as he choked, body shaking horribly against the cold ground. 

Tony kept one hand carefully under the kids head, protecting it from smacking against the concrete while he used the other to roll Peter onto his side, holding his hip to keep him from falling back. “No, no, no! Friday, why is he seizing? I thought you said there wasn’t any serious damage!”

Tony’s mind raced with terrible possibilities of brain damage or complications but the AI’s voice was calm and smooth as always. “This is not caused by a head injury. His fever has reached deadly levels. He requires medical attention immediately.”

Tony felt himself choke up, tears gathering in his eyes as Peter continued to choke for air. “Tell Bruce to hurry.”

“Tony!”

As if he had heard Tony talking to the AI, Bruce’s voice came towards him down the alley, tires squealing on the concrete as the van came to an abrupt stop before the Doctor tumbled out.

Tony turned to him as much as he could without removing his hands from the teenager still shaking. “Bruce! He’s seizing! Help him!”

The doctor's face went pale, eyes widening before he grabbed a bag from the van and sprinted towards them. He dropped to his knees next to his patient, snapping on gloves within seconds and preparing a syringe. 

“He’ll be okay. I’m going to give him an anticonvulsant and we can take him back to the med bay and cool him down.”

Tony didn’t answer, just nodded as he stared down at the shaking boy, the whites of his eyes visible through the slit of his barely open eyelids. 

Bruce was hesitant, trying to be gentle but not having much of a choice. “Tony, I need you to roll him onto his back. Just so I can get the anticonvulsant in. Can you do that?”

Tony nodded again, knowing he needed to hurry up and rolled Peter back down to the concrete. 

Bruce got to work fast, taking one of Peters' arms and using his knees to brace it still. One knee pressing to Peters' wrist with his other on the kid's bicep, holding his arm still just enough to get the needle in. 

Once in there wasn’t much to do but wait. 

Tony still had his hand under Peters' head, suit folded away from that hand so that it wouldn’t hurt the kid. Peters shaking pushed Tony’s knuckles against the rough ground again and again but Tony didn’t even notice his skin tearing. 

He felt frozen, terror running through his veins like ice. He couldn’t move, couldn’t draw a single breath in because neither was Peter. 

His voice trembled, thin. “Bruce...he’s not breathing.” 

The drug worked, Peters seizure was slowing, limbs twitching slower until they slumped and laid still but now Peter wasn’t breathing. 

Bruce lunged forward, fingers pressing to Peters' throat. “Dammit. He’s going into cardiac arrest.”

Tony looked at his friend, tears falling as he was met with eyes as afraid as his. “Do something! Save him!”

Bruce shook his head. “I’m not strong enough to do compressions! His bone density is-”

Tony was desperate, he could practically feel Peter's life force slipping away. The longer they waited the further he got to slipping away. 

“We can’t just let him die!”

Bruce paused before blinking, realisation coming to him. “Use the suit! Tony, your suit will have enough strength to do it.”

Tony looked down at Peter and carefully placed the kids head back down, taking his hand back and allowing the metal to encase it once more. 

He blinked his blurry vision clear as he laced his fingers and pressed the heel of his hand down on Peters' chest. But it felt too awful, he looked too fragile for Tony to put any real strength into it. 

“Tony, you're not pressing hard enough. I know it’s scary but you have to push harder. You need to force his ribs to bend or he’s going to die.”

Tony shook his head, trying harder but still not enough. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Bruce was beginning to panic, voice rising as they ran out of time. “You have to!”

Tony sucked in a shaky breath and tore his eyes away from the body beneath him. He couldn’t look, it would only make it worse. Peter was so small, so young, so breakable. And Tony wanted so badly to not be the one to break him. 

He pressed his hands harder, feeling the give of Peters' ribs as he used the strength of his suit. He gave thirty compressions, Friday taking vitals as he did and telling him it was working, Peters' heart was being forced to pump. But when he paused for Bruce to check if it had worked, he shook his head, gesturing for Tony to continue. 

And then came the cracks and pops from Peters' chest, air escaping from the joints that were being forced to move in ways they weren’t meant to. It was horrible, the crush of metal on a child's chest, forcing his heart to beat when all it wanted to do was give up. 

His own chest felt as if it were caving in as his eyes grew blurry once more, tears fogging his vision, his head still turned away from Peter. 

“Come on, kid. Please. Don’t do this. You can’t leave May, she needs you. You’re strong, you can do it just come back.”

Friday sounded unusually sombre. “It doesn’t seem to be working sir.”

Tony pressed harder, hating it but needing to keep trying. Bruce slumped back on his haunches, eyes growing wet behind his glasses. “Tony...I think he’s...”

Tony shook his head, adamant. “No. Don’t say it! He’s not gone!”

Bruce tried again, voice weak. “Maybe it was just too much. He was already running a fever hotter than any normal person could survive and then this. It was just too much.”

Tony pushed down on Peters' chest again voice rising to a shout as he grew more desperate. “He’s not just anyone! I’m not leaving him! Peter!”

His hands came up, hands curling into one fist before it came down hard on the teenager's chest, slamming down on his heart and finally

“Heartbeat detected. He's back, sir.”

………………………

Tony cradled Peter against his chest as he and Bruce hurried through the med bay. The teenager was limp, head lolling back on Tony’s arm, arm swinging down as they moved. 

He was so hot that Tony felt himself overheating from the mere pressing of Peter against him. 

Bruce led them to a small room off to the side of the main bay, where a bathtub lay waiting. He quickly made his way to it and started the water, gesturing to an examination table against the wall. 

“Put him there and get his suit off. Keep an eye on his breathing.” 

Tony did as he was asked, carefully laying him down before tugging his suit off. He shivered at the cool air on his exposed chest, fingers twitching but eyes remaining closed. 

Tony held peters arms as he pulled them from his sleeves, keeping his voice soothing as he went. “You’re okay, buddy. I know it doesn’t feel nice, just let me help. Bruce and I are going to make it all better for you.” 

Peter barely moved, eyebrows scrunching in pain as Tony moved him around. His suit came off and Tony pressed his palm to Peters' neck, trying to calm him, only succeeding in worrying himself more. 

“Bruce, his skin is so dry. He’s really dehydrated.” 

The doctor was grabbing things, setting equipment up to treat his patient, and he looked over at Tony’s strained voice. “I know. I’ll start a line and get some fluids into him while I fix his nose.” 

Tony nodded, looking at the poor boys face. The skin was split, blood smeared over his face and over his teeth, making his face swell. 

Bruce pulled an IV pole over and hung a bag, quickly placing the needle and taping it before sliding an ice pack under the boy's neck, and laying a cooling mat over his chest. 

He was hoping it would help the fever as he worked, and he leaned over Peter's face, humming as he assessed the damage. 

“It hasn’t moved, which is good but his healing is going to be compromised until this fevers down and he’s stronger. I’ll put some sutures in and he’ll be okay.”

Tony didn’t want to see Bruce sewing up his youngest teammate but he couldn’t just leave Peter, so he stayed, eyes closed, hand holding Peters tight until it was over. 

“All done for now. Let’s get him in the bath.”

Tony waited for him to finish placing the butterfly strips to the tear in Peters' lip before he carefully scooped the kid into his arms. Bruce pulled the IV pole along and helped Tony lower Peter into the tepid water. 

He trembled at the touch of the water, cool on his overheated skin but Tony held him tight, lowering him into the tub and bracing his arm around Peters back, the teenagers head laying in the crook of his elbow. 

Bruce checked the IV to make are the waterproof tape was holding before attaching small flat disks to Peters' chest and on the inside of his wrist. 

“These should allow us to keep track of his vitals.” A screen flickered to life where it was attached to the wall and Bruce pushed his glasses up with a finger as he analysed the information coming from the monitors. 

“His temperature has risen since he left the med bay but I’m hoping this bath will help. If not we’ll have to look at other options.”

Tony looked down at the kid in his arms, hair floating around him, water tinging pink from the blood seeping from the torn skin over Tony's knuckles. And Peters face creased in pain that Tony was causing him. 

“I’m sorry, Pete. You’ll feel better soon.”

……………………… 

Peters dreams were smeared like inked paged getting wet from the rain, images distorted and ruined. 

His parents were leaving him again. He begged them not to, tiny hands grabbing at his mother's dress as she made her way to the door. 

“Mommy, don’t leave me! Daddy!”

They seemed to tower above him, their backs turned as they abandoned him. But they paused at the doorway as he cried, and he reached for them as they began to turn. 

But their faces were dripping, details running like Mays makeup when she cried. His mother's mouth was a river of red dripping down her chin to splatter the floor like blood, her eyes melting onto her cheeks like Dali’s clocks. Her voice too was stretched and pulled until it was a horrible version of the words he remembered so well. 

“wE loove yOu, Peteer.”

His father's hands reached down towards him, spindly and long like skeletons fingers, ends sharpened to claws and Peter couldn’t escape them. 

He screamed, trying to run away from the nightmare versions of his parents, but his father's fingers wrapped around him and squeezed tight. 

“No! Let me go! Help me!”

He was being pulled in, his father's hands cold as ice as his giant mouth opened ready to engulf him. 

“Please!”   
He closed his eyes, sobbing as he was about to be devoured. But then suddenly those freezing, horrible hands around him were torn away, replaced by the strong, sure hands of someone else he knew.

His parents disappeared and there was nothing but a soothing voice in his ear, calming his mind and sending him back to sleep. 

“You’re okay, I’m here. I got you, Peter.”

……………………… 

Bruce frowned down at the teenager in the tub, and the way that Peters limbs were shaking, teeth chattering noisily at the vast temperature difference between his skin and the bath water. “Shivering is counterproductive right now. He needs a muscle relaxant.”

Tony looked up at him, eyebrows pinching in confusion. “Then give him one.”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Peter’s fever hadn’t come down much at all and he was growing increasingly worried about the damage it could be causing to his patient's organs. “I don’t have any in here. I’d have to go back to the main bay for it but...I don’t feel comfortable leaving him while he’s like this.”

Tony shook his head. “I got him. You go.”

“If he has another seizure while in the tub he could seriously hurt himself.”

Tony was losing his patience, worry chewing away at his resolve and he turned, snapping. “Then hurry!”

Bruce left, shoes squeaking against the tiled floor, and Peter began to whimper, drawing Tony’s attention back to him. 

“Peter?”

The teenager's face was pinched, lips moving in breathy words too quiet for Tony to hear. He twitched in Tony's hold, hands splashing through the water and smacking the sides of the tub. 

His voice raised as he turned his head, legs kicking restlessly. “No. Don’t leave me.”

Tony’s heart sped up and he tried to hold the teenager as he moved but the water and angle made it hard to get a good grip on him. “Peter, calm down.”

The monitors stuck to Peters' chest continued to send information to the screen on the wall and it began to beep erratically as his heart rate sped up too fast. 

A red light flashed on the monitor, declaring Peters temperature was rising with his pulse and that he needed to calm down before he went into cardiac arrest again. Tony gripped Peter harder as he trashed again, face crumpling as he sobbed.  
“No! Let me go!” He sounded so scared and Tony couldn’t hold him above the water with him moving. He didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t just let Peters nightmare continue and if he kept moving he’d slip under the water. 

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He lifted Peter out of the bath, water cascading off him to slosh onto the floor, and held the teenager tight before getting into the tub with him. 

Tony lowered them both down into the cold water, clothes and all, and laid Peter against him. Peters back pressed to his own chest, head falling back on Tony's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his middle, water lapping over them both. 

Tony was careful not to disturb the IV as he held Peter close as the kid cried. He lifted one hand to Peters sopping wet hair, smoothing it back in slow calming strokes as he pressed his mouth to his ear. 

“You’re okay, I’m here. I got you, Peter.”

The kicking stopped, hands stilling as Peter whimpered so Tony kept going, voice low and quiet. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m right here, I’m not leaving.”

Footsteps made their way to them, snapping Tony back to the present as Bruce entered. His eyes went wide at the sight in front of him and the water draining to the plug in the floor beneath the bath. 

“What happened?”

Tony pressed his cheek back to Peters temple, hugging him tight as the young Avengers breaths finally calmed, deepening as he fell back to a restful sleep. 

“He had a nightmare. A bad one. He wouldn’t stop fighting and it...I didn’t know how to stop it.”

Bruce came over and knelt by the bath, looking over his patient as he injected the muscle relaxant into the port on Peters IV. 

“He seems to have settled down now. Good thinking.”

Tony nodded, his own breaths calming down from his panic. He was exhausted, from the constant worry and spikes of adrenaline. He could have fallen asleep himself, but he remained stubbornly awake should Peter need him again. 

It took another bathful of water, some more meds and some patience but finally, Peters fever broke. 

His vitals were steady, his breathing even and deep despite his broken and splinted nose but his healing picked up after his fever melted away. 

And then he woke up, albeit for only a moment. 

He let out a breath, a soft moan chasing after as he shifted in Tony's hold, making the mechanic and Bruce perk up in eager anticipation. 

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Tony gently rubbed a hand over the teenager's chest, ignoring the splashing water as he tried to rouse the kid. 

It worked, Peters face turning to Tony's voice, his own sounding weak and slurred.   
“Dad?”

Panic ate at Tony's stomach as he and Bruce shared a look. The Doctor didn’t seem too worried though, shaking his head as he reassured. “It’s okay. He’s probably going to be a little confused after what he’s been through. It’s likely just from exhaustion and the last of the fever.”

Tony took a breath to calm himself and forced his voice to remain steady. “No buddy, it’s not your dad. It’s Tony. You remember Tony?”

Tony shifted the teenager a little until he was able to see his face, watching him blink as he tried to work it out. Finally, he smiled a little, relaxing into the arms around him. “Yeah. Tony.”

He sounded relieved, head heavy on the mechanic's chest. “Bruce is here too.”

Peters' eyes blinked tiredly but his voice perked up, excited even as his words still slurred. “Uncle Bruce?”

The doctor smiled, face warming as Tony laughed quietly, nodding. “Yes, Uncle Brucie is right here. Do you know where you are?” Peter may have been a little out of it but he really did seem okay and his skin was no longer burning against Tony’s. 

The teenager shook his head slowly, likely sensing that moving too much would hurt his head even if he didn’t know why and Tony was grateful that he didn’t seem to notice his broken nose or the taste of copper in his mouth from his split lip. That might have been hard to explain. 

“You’re at the compound. You had a fever and we had to bring it down quick. How are you feeling?”

Peter took another moment to think, hands lifting from the water as he watched it pour off his fingers, making little splashes. 

He seemed to be having trouble finding the right words, voice low as he hummed, irritated when they didn’t come out the way he wanted. “I’m…hmm...Water.”

Tony amended for him, patient. “You mean you’re wet?”

Peter nodded against him, dipping his fingers into the water as he played with it.   
“Yea. It’s cold.”

Tony brushed the kid's hair back as he spoke, Bruce moving away to grab some towels. “I know buddy, I’m sorry but it’s for your own good. How’s your chest?”  
He didn’t know how to explain what had happened but Peter seemed too tired to find the questions strange anyway.   
“Hurts. Are you okay?”

He wasn’t expecting that question. He blinked, surprised, and looked back down to Peter.   
“Of course, buddy. I’m fine.”

Peter frowned, tilting his head back to see Tony’s face as he asked.  
“But you’re in the bath too.”

Tony laughed and hugged Peter tight, shaking his head at how consistent Peter was. Of course, he’d be worrying about Tony instead of himself.   
“Yeah, you were having some bad dreams so I hopped in here to help. I thought it might make you feel better.”

Peter paused, surprised before he smiled a little, hands coming up to grip Tony’s arm around him.   
“Oh, thanks. It’s working.”

Tony pressed his cheek back to Peters temple as he smiled. “Yeah?”

Peter laid his head back on Tony’s chest, seeming to snuggle into him, as he closed his eyes, voice dipping into a sleepy mumble. “Yeah.”

Tony held him as he fell asleep, breaths even and slow, Peters hair tickling his cheek. The bath water was cold, Tony’s clothes were soaked and his legs were aching from the cramped space but it was all worth it because Peter was safe. 

Bruce came back with towels and clothes for both, helping Tony lift Peter from the tub and onto the examination table where they dried and dressed him in his pyjamas. 

Tony got dressed in his own sweats before he picked Peter up once more and took him to his room to tuck him into bed. 

The kid was so exhausted he didn’t even stir, snoring softly as Tony pulled his covers over him and made sure he was warm enough. 

Tony felt like falling asleep himself but his phone rang just as he picked up Peters comb, and he put it on speaker and put it on the desk to free up his hands. 

“Hello?”

Peter sighed in his sleep as Tony combed out his hair, gently smoothing out the tangles while May spoke through the phone. 

“Tony? How’s Peter? I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to call yesterday. Work was hectic and-”

Tony kept his voice hushed, not wanting to disturb his wards sleep. “It’s okay. He’s good. His fever finally broke and his vitals are all much better. He’s sleeping now.”

May sighed in relief, sounding as exhausted as Tony. “Oh thank goodness. Give him a kiss for me and tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.”

Tony smiled as Peter yawned in his sleep, rolling over onto his side. “I will.” 

May spoke again, relief colouring her tone a soft hue. “Thank you so much for taking care of him. He wasn’t too much trouble was he?”

Tony didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the question but ended up smiling as he answered. “Not at all. The little tyke was perfect just like always.”

**Author's Note:**

> please tell me what you think? Also, I didn't actually edit this all so if there are mistakes please let me know I hate accidentally calling Tony Tiny.


End file.
